by Frank Redman
“It’s touchscreen too?” I blurted.
Jason nodded, mimicking a bobblehead doll. “Yep. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Totally,” I said. “This is obviously way out of the league of what you can get at Buy City. Where did you get it? I assume the vendor also did the custom set up.”
“Yep,” said Jason, smiling. “Me.”
“You?”
“Really?” said Jenny.
Jason mimicked a bobblehead again. “Yep.”
I said, “Wow, that’s really impressive.”
“Thanks. Ray says you’re into IT stuff also. I’ll show you how I set it all up sometime.”
“Thanks!”
Tyler said, He’s better than you.
He didn’t get me that time. I ignored him. I can outwit the dog every once in a while.
Jason said, “This is a satellite image of what’s suspected to be Lynch’s most prominent residence. With someone like him, of course, he’ll have multiple houses. And also multiple companies, some that don’t even exist. These additional images peer in at some of the other locations known to have a strong association with Lynch. We don’t have the resources to follow him wherever he goes, or any other suspect, for that matter. But especially in Lynch’s case, he does have the resources to cause trouble if he found out about us. That’s why Ray said we had to get a containment crew to C-Man’s house. It’s highly probable the goons that had been chasing you two work for Lynch.”
Jenny said, “Those fake feds? How could a single person pull off something like that?”
“Easy,” said Jason. “Millions of dollars can accomplish quite a few things, if used right. And he doesn’t have to operate on his own. He can hire/bribe/coerce people into doing work for him.
“At any rate, he caught onto Broxton and your dad, Jenny. We don’t know how. But if he figures out there’s a group of people trying to stop him, and others in his line of business, then he could cripple us. We have to remove him as quickly as possible.”
“Remove?” I said.
Bobblehead nodding. “Remove. Take him out of the picture, make him disappear, however you want to phrase it.”
“Kill him?” said Jenny.
“Well, let’s not phrase it quite like that. But that’s the assignment for you two.”
“Whoa! What? We’re not contract killers, or removers or whatever you guys want to call it. There’s no way we can do something like that.”
Jason smiled. “You’re right. Thankfully you don’t have to.” He brought another window to the front and expanded it, then zoomed in. “The goal of this assignment is fact finding only. To get information on Lynch we can use to come down hard on him. We take the evidence and get it in the hands of the right people who can make something happen. Sometimes that’s us, as in other people in the Network. Sometimes it’s anonymously given to someone or someone plural outside of the Network.”
Jason pointed to the image of the zoomed high-rise. “We have strong reason to believe Lynch is using this facility for a child prostitution ring behind the scenes. None of us have gone there to investigate yet. That’s what you will be doing, with Ray’s supervision.” He stopped to let us think.
Jenny and I shared a look. I was sure we were thinking the same thing.
I said, “We want to help, of course, but, as you said so yourself, we haven’t been trained for anything like this. We don’t know what we’re doing.”
“I agree,” said Jason. “But I don’t call the shots. Ray does. He said it’s a go. So, guess what, it’s a go. You can refuse, of course. But from what Ray’s already told me about you two, I doubt that’s going to happen.”
“No,” I said. “That’s not going to happen.”
I looked at Jenny; she nodded in agreement.
“Okay, so what do we need to know?”
Jason smiled, then clapped his hands again and rubbed enthusiastically.
He spent the next hour briefing us on what we needed to know, or at least what the Network knew of the location and Lynch’s operation to this point.
Jenny said, “How could he get away with something like that, especially right there in the city?”
“Oh, it’s easy. Some establishment that doesn’t stick out. A lot of traffic that seems ordinary. Detroit’s economy is suffering, so this brings a lot of money into the city. There are those who don’t care about where the money comes from, just as long as it’s there.”
“Sick,” said Jenny.
Jason gave a single nod and said with a humorless smile, “Welcome to humanity.”
I looked over at Tyler to see if he had any sort of reaction. If he did, he didn’t share with me. Instead he just kept his head on the floor, resting. I’m sure he already knew just how depraved humans were.
Jason said, “And yet, the potential exists for redemption in everyone. Even those committed to pure evil, just for the sake of evil. I did not always believe that. It’s something Ray taught me. That doesn’t mean everyone will change sides, so to speak, evil for good. And that doesn’t mean we can hang tight, and hope they come around someday, see the Light, if you will. We, the Network, strive to bring about redemption for the children. We’re not perfect. God saves us. With His help, we’ll save the children. And others who have fallen into that life. So, tomorrow, you two will be going with Ray to Detroit.”
Tyler popped his head up. That got a rise out of him. And me?
I said, “What about Tyler?”
“On this one, Tyler will need to stay with someone. Remember, Lynch’s whole operation is organized around not sticking out. We can’t stick out in any way either. Tyler would stick out.
We wrapped up the intel session and followed Jason upstairs to eat. We were in a large room decorated like an old hometown diner. There were enough tables to seat forty, but there were only a dozen of us sitting at one long table. It was nine o’clock. I knew I was starving, probably most everyone else too.
The food was amazing. Chicken fried steak, cream gravy. Mashed potatoes, cream gravy. Chicken fried chicken, cream gravy. Green beans, no cream gravy, buttered corn, brown sugared carrots, fried okra, macaroni and cheese, squash casserole, biscuits… Served family style: on large platters and bowls. You got what you wanted and as much as you wanted.
Jenny looked at me and said, “Wow.”
I said, “Can you cook like this?”
She said, “Are you kidding? There’s a reason there are a hundred cans of food in my pantry.”
I looked at Tyler, who noisily enjoyed a plate of his own.
“Better than Cheetos?”
He said, Yep.
Heinz ketchup bottles sat on the tables. I got some weird looks using a combo dip of cream gravy and ketchup for my chicken fried steak. Those people just didn’t have a palette as sophisticated as mine.
Jenny said, “But I can cook better than mixing ketchup and gravy.”
“Hmph.”
I took in everyone at the table. People were smiling, laughing, enjoying the food.
Ray came up and sat at the empty spot across the table from me. “Like the food?”
“Oh good grief, yes,” I said with a mouth half full of mashed potatoes, breaking my own rule. “Incredible!”
“It’s happy food. In the South it’s called comfort food. Food is actually something that can create great enjoyment. It can make you happy. We deal with such heartache here, we try to do all of the little things that can make people happy. Of course, it’s still mainly a choice by the individual. He or she has to make the decision to be happy. But we try to help with the little things.”
I said, “I agree, happiness is not a circumstance. It’s a choice.”
Ray smiled, “Right on, Brother Elijah.” He looked to his left toward the kitchen.
A plump black woman walked through the doorway into the dining room, smiling broadly with evident pride in the delight on everyone’s faces. Above the doorway was a sign: NEVER TRUST A SKINNY COOK.
Ray said, �
�There’s our real life Aunt Jemima.”
I said, “What do you mean? Because she’s a good cook?”
“That’s obvious. Her name really is Jemima. We all call her Aunt Jemima.”
She walked over to us. “Nice to meet you, Elijah,” she extended her hand to me, “and Jenny,” still smiling broadly.
You can identify the personalities of some people very quickly. Jemima had the matronly persona of someone you could go to with all of your problems she’d make you feel like you didn’t have a care in the world.
We both replied with, “Nice to meet you.”
“Are you enjoying the food?”
“Oh yes,” I said.
She smiled that broad smile again. “I see you like ketchup with the gravy. My husband—
Lord Bless him—he used to like that too. For years I banned him to use it on my cooking. But then I finally gave up. He said he wasn’t trying to mask the flavor, he was just getting lycopene.” She laughed wholeheartedly, her shoulders hopping up and down.
Jenny said, “I can’t believe how good this is. I’d gain two hundred pounds if I ate like this every day.”
“Oh no, no, Honey, plenty of exercise, it’s all right. See?” She stood sideways to present her figure. “It takes a lot of hard work to keep a body like this.”
Ray laughed. She slapped him on the back as he did so, with a mock look of reprimand.
I said to Jemima, “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“No, I’ve been sampling as I cooked. I’m all right.”
“Well, thank you for making this incredible meal.”
“Aren’t you sweet? You’re quite welcome, Sweetie. I’d better go get dessert out here.”
“Dessert?” I patted my stomach. “Oy.”
Ray said, “After you’ve experienced the life-changing experience of eating Aunt Jemima’s banana pudding—”
“Boy, you’re laying it on thick!” said Jemima.
“—you’ll never want to leave the table!”
Aunt Jemima left and returned with large bowls of banana pudding.
Jenny said, “Do you want some ketchup with that?” While offering me the bottle.
“Ha ha,” I said.
We ate banana pudding (fantastic!), then Ray said, “We’d better get some sleep. Trouble waits for us in Detroit tomorrow.”
I said, “How are we getting there?”
“Ol’ Neb,” said Ray, enigmatically.
I put on my best blank look, which comes naturally.
Ray obliged. “The Nebuchadnezzar.”
How does one increase the level of blankness in their expression? I tried it anyway, and added a sound effect: “Huh?”
Jenny said, “Your truck, right?”
Ray smiled. “That’s right.”
“Oh,” I said. “I knew that. Just wanted to give you a chance to answer.”
I don’t know how she does it, but Jenny can combine a whatever look with a smile. Of course, full of perception. That was Perceptive Smile #4.
That night I dreamed of Heinz ketchup bottles smiling at me, spraying ketchup everywhere. The liquid changed to blood as it slid down the walls to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“So, I realized over the past couple of days, that I know very little about you,” said Jenny.
We were in Ray’s truck, the Nebuchadnezzar, driving through Nebraska, Ray’s head bobbing to some jazz as he drove. It still wasn’t Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra, but it was all right. Tyler napped, I was teaching Jenny how to play Cribbage, which I learned from Uncle Joe, a master of the game. Jenny didn’t seem to be very good with card games, but it was something to pass the time.
I said, “I don’t like to talk about myself. Besides, speaking of talking, you’re one to talk.”
“There’s a difference.”
“How?”
“You haven’t asked.”
“Oh. Well, technically, you haven’t either.”
Perceptive Smile #0. I know 0 can’t really be used to number a smile. But this smile was unclassified—I didn’t know what it meant.
She made some sort of a growl, then said, “So, Elijah Raven, tell me about yourself.”
“Still not a question.”
She said, “Ellie…” with rattlesnake warning in her tone… but without the rattle. Which was good; that would have just been freaky.
“Hmm?” I said, feigning ignorance to her meaning, or hearing loss, or both.
She sighed. “Will you please tell me about yourself? About your past?”
Here was this girl—scratch that—here was the girl of my dreams interested in me, or at least about me… In fact, if I were into idol worship, I would have a wooden statue of Jenny in my apartment, bowing before it every day, praying, burning sacrifices—toast, for instance—to the Jenny Goddess. And, I would probably have the statue with me on the road if it wouldn’t have been weird for Wooden Statue Jenny and Real Life Jenny to be at the same place at the same time… and yet I still didn’t want to talk about me.
I know I’m not the only person who doesn’t like to talk about him/herself. And maybe for some of them, reluctance doesn’t stem from modesty or embarrassment, but from a genuine, almost fear, in talking about yourself. If so, those people would understand.
Outside of my love for my brother and sister, there is nothing worth remembering from my past.
And yet, Uncle Joe, disagrees. He and I have debated this—multiple times—when he kept pushing me to write. He wants people to see how I’ve overcome my past.
But, I haven’t overcome my past. I’ve just accepted it.
“Jenny, do you remember, it seems weeks ago, when I ran up to your car on the street by your house, and got you to back up out of sight?”
She pushed out her lips as if in deep thought, not necessarily trying to remember, but trying to figure out where I was going with this. Finally, she said, “Yes.”
“And remember the first thing I blurted out when I jumped into your car?”
More lip pushing. She had not mentioned it since my mouth and brain stumbled all over themselves, neither had I, so I didn’t know if this time she was actually trying to remember, but then she smiled, somewhat embarrassed.
“It was easier for me to blurt ‘I love you,’ than to talk about my past.”
She laughed, looking thankful for the opportunity to release her embarrassment. “But that was a mistake. You didn’t mean it.”
Whoa, oh yes I did. But what I didn’t know was whether she was giving me the opportunity to save face, or if she really believed I didn’t mean it.
Okay, maybe telling her I loved her wouldn’t be easier… I turned so I could see Tyler on the bed. I needed his advice. I needed anyone’s advice. Ugh.
She grabbed my hand. “Look, I’ll make it easy on you. We’ll talk about that moment some other time. For now, I don’t want to know about your feelings. There was a lot of stress and chaos right then. I want to hear about you.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
She smiled, a defiant smile.
I hadn’t started cataloging defiant smiles.
“I am nosey and I am persistent.” Her face softened. “I know I’m prying, but I think it would be good for you to tell me. Who knows what horrors we’re going to find in Detroit. I know you have lived horrors of your own, Ellie. You’ve already told me about them.”
“What!”
“Well, not me directly, but that night you had the nightmare, you talked in your sleep.” She swallowed. “A lot.”
I sat back in the chair, my body slumped. “Oh.”
“How about this: I’m not going to force you. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.” She pointed to the Cribbage peg board, on which I held a substantial lead. “But if I win this game, you have to tell me what happened. If you win, you can tell me all about the Rat Pack.”
“Ooo, really?” I perked up.
“Yes.”
I looked at the boa
rd, evaluating my decision on whether to accept the bet. I was winning 80-40. No way could I lose. I felt bad accepting the bet, knowing she didn’t really understand the game. But if it meant I didn’t have to tell her about my past and I could tell her about real music… I couldn’t decline. “I am going to change your life forever.”
We finished the game.
And of course, I lost. Unbelievable. She hustled me. I just know it. And, just in case I didn’t know which one of us was the victor, she drove the point home when she drove the peg into the final score: “Booyah!”
Ray turned to look at us, smiling.
Tyler repeated, Booyah!
Oy.
She was not a graceful winner.
“I need some time to think about this. We’ll talk after dinner.”
She got up from the chair, stood next to me as I still sat in the chair (shocked) and hugged me.
Ray said “Anyone hungry?”
Tyler said, I am.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We dined at a Cracker Barrel. I love the Barrel.
The food was good, but my dread over talking to Jenny about my life tempered my enjoyment. Watching Ray in amazement as he ate all three dinners he ordered helped a little, but not enough. So I tried to push another dread to the forefront in my mind as a replacement. “Ray, so what are we going to do if we find Aaron Lynch?”
Ray had been smiling as he ate, savoring his food, but the smile disappeared at my question. “There is no if, we will find him. And we will stop his child prostitution business.”
Jenny said, “How?”
“By any means necessary.” He repeated for emphasis, “Any means. We may not be able to stop him on this trip. I’m concerned about getting either of you in too much danger. We will scope the business, environment, and people. We’ll gather enough information and evidence to provide local and/or federal authorities to break him. It won’t be easy. Lynch is a master at covering himself, his businesses, and his clients. So we may have to send in a second team to break him.”
I said, “What do you mean, break him?”
